


Hide it in a rose

by Elisexyz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 11:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17917835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: It was a good day.





	Hide it in a rose

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tumblr prompt: [27\. “I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.” + Biospecialist](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/183053764509/27-from-the-sarcastic-prompts-biospec-if-it).

It was a good day: Jemma walks back to her apartment feeling particularly content, the high from a job well done still not gone from her system.

Whitehall seemed pleasantly surprised by her progress, and thinking of the way he highlighted what a good investment he made when he chose her, looking at her like you would at a very prized possession, makes her smile widen and shivers run down her spine.

He invited her to have some tea with him, tomorrow, and she doesn’t think that anything could ruin her mood.

Then, of course, she comes back home to find that she isn’t alone.

That would probably be the cherry on top of an already delicious cake on any other day, because Grant coming home always calls for celebration, but her smile drops as soon as she notices that there’s blood all over the floor and five corpses as his feet.

Blood, she knows from experience, is a nightmare to wash away.

“What’s going on here?” she asks, closing the door behind her as she tries to drown the annoyance at the mess he made into feelings of relief because none of the blood seems to be his and into the excited expectation for her afternoon with Whitehall tomorrow.

Grant opens his mouth to answer, with an expression that she knows means that he’s about to be a smartass.

“And before you answer—” she interrupts then. “Remember that I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.”

He snorts, amused, and she notices with satisfaction that he hasn’t moved to greet her physically the way he usually does, especially after a long op: if he did, he’d make an even bigger mess, and _then_ she’d probably consider murdering him for real.

“I tried to go for something cleaner, but they were ganging up on me, I had to make do,” he shrugs, gesturing briefly at the bloody knife on the ground. “SHIELD agents.”

That’s no surprise: she and Grant have moved out of Hydra headquarters precisely because SHIELD seems to have some interest in her. It’s likely because of her brain: she supposes that taking one of Hydra’s brightest minds – Whitehall’s words, not hers – and attempting to turn them would be very beneficial to SHIELD, especially now that they seem to be struggling. They don’t know that she’d never betray Whitehall and his cause, that she’d sooner choose death, therefore they kept sending people undercover, trying to discreetly lure her away with nonsensical talks about how this isn’t _her_ , and Grant decided that it’d be best if they moved into a safehouse, somewhere less exposed where he could look out for her when he wasn’t on mission and someone else could take watch in his absence.

It has worked like a charm, up until now.

“Oh,” she says, pouting a little. “We’ll have to move then. Pity.”

Grant gives her a strange look, as if waiting for some other reaction, but before she can ask if there’s any problem his attention goes to the bodies. “I can clean it up,” he announces.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Russia anyway?” she asks, frowning. By looking around a little, she notices his coat and hat on the ground, half-soaked in blood. They’ll have to throw them away, she isn’t attempting to clean that mess up.

“We wrapped it up early,” he explains, bending over to get out of his boots and carefully stepping over the nearest corpse without leaving more bloody footprints around. “I wanted to surprise you, but someone else had the same idea, apparently. Who the hell was supposed to keep watch?”

Jemma shrugs, finding a bit of satisfaction in the way he growls the last question, clearly ready to break some more skulls over her. It’s always nice to be cared for.

“I’ll take a shower,” Grant announces, as soon as he’s done growling about making someone regret what almost happened. “We can ask for a new safehouse tomorrow morning, I doubt they’ll send anybody else tonight.” Jemma just nods absently, and he takes a few steps closer, offering a sly grin and nothing else, because touching her would mean getting blood all over her clothes too. “If you wait for me, I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you while I was freezing my ass off in Russia.”

She smiles, any of the tiredness from a full working day dissipating in a few seconds. “Happy to comply,” she replies, sweetly.

She realizes her mistake a second too late, when Grant’s expression hardens in disapproval and he pulls back a little.

“Sorry,” she quickly amends. She knows he hates it when she says that, although he’s never given her a decent reason and she can’t understand why it sets him off like that: Whitehall always seems to appreciate her cooperation, he seems _pleased_ when she reminds him of her willingness to help and of her loyalty, so it’s hard to prevent the words from escaping her lips sometimes, even in front of Grant. “It slipped,” she adds, apologetic.

Grant stares at her for a few moments, looking troubled in a way that she can’t quite decipher. She knows better than to try and ask though, so she simply waits it out.

“It’s alright,” he finally says, gently. He brushes a lock of hair off her face – with his left hand, which is not covered in blood and doesn’t risk making a mess of her cheek.

He looks at her with such intensity than it makes her feel suddenly self-conscious, but in the end he pulls back and his eyes fall to the ground as he clears his throat.

“I’ll make it quick,” he announces, offering a small smile before he heads to the bathroom.

Jemma is left standing alone, sighing heavily at the mess on the floor and knowing perfectly well that he’ll just dump the bodies out while the water heats up and do nothing more, especially since they won’t be staying there long.

It’s no matter: she’s too glad to have him back to be all that concerned with washing blood away from a home that they’ll have to flee from anyway.

She heads to the door to make sure that it’s locked, although the very angry and very protective specialist that shares her bed is all the insurance she needs when it comes to her personal safety, and she resolves to just lay down in their bedroom and wait for him to be done.

It was a good day: Whitehall is happy with her and Grant is back. She couldn’t be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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